


Monthly

by writingandchocolatemilk



Series: SpUk Oneshots [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Mild Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:53:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I think," he said, switching to Spanish, "you're just looking for a distraction."</p><p>"Well, I think," England said, English crisp and clear. He realized he didn't know what to follow up with and fumbled. "I think." He frowned. "I think you need to leave me alone."</p><p>"Ah, you don't <em>really</em> want me to leave you alone."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monthly

**Author's Note:**

> **Anonymous said:** Can I please have some modern day SpaEng smut please? Maybe after a long meeting maybe :)
> 
>  
> 
> **[ Distant sounds of flailing ]**

Bulgaria was fumbling with his PowerPoint presentation. A video had frozen, and now the entire program refused to cooperate. England could  _feel_  the meeting start to dissolve, so he chose this time to excuse himself for coffee.

The "National Emotions Assessment and Predictions" assembly was going about as well as it always did: horribly. More than once, it had descended into nations ranting about the ending to a soap opera. This, of course, was allowed, as long as the nation could draw a "reasonable" prediction for the state of their people.

However, it was mainly subpar PowerPoints.

The conference room was one long table, and England nodded to allies as he passed. He slapped America on the back of the head, waking the man up. He kept on walking.

England opened the door and found Spain sitting in the hallway. He froze, and Spain glanced up, back down at his phone, snapped his eyes back to England.

Spain put one finger up to his lips.

"What," England shut the door behind him. "What are you doing out here?"

Spain held up his phone and grinned. "Words with Friends."

"Don't you think you should be, oh, I don't know, in the meeting?" England crossed his arms.

"I've already given my presentation. And Bulgaria is presenting now." Spain made a face, then kept grinning.

That was a good point. "You can't just  _skip_  the meeting," England tried. "It's irresponsible."

"I never claimed to be responsible." Spain stood up. "You can't tell me you're having fun. After all…" He gestured around the empty hallway. "Why are you out here?"

England scoffed and continued walking. "I'm getting coffee."

Spain followed next to him, hands behind his back. "Are you?"

"Sorry, does it look like I'm doing something else?" England walked faster. "I'm getting coffee so that I can pay attention and do my job."

"I think," he said, switching to Spanish, "you're just looking for a distraction."

"Well, I think," England said, English crisp and clear. He realized he didn't know what to follow up with and fumbled. "I think." He frowned. "I think you need to leave me alone."

"Ah, you don't  _really_  want me to leave you alone."

Finally, England found the break room. He walked stiffly over to the coffee table, Spain still on his heels. The coffee was cold. No one had thought to bring tea for those who  _didn't_  want a terrible taste in their mouth.

"You seem stressed," Spain commented, still in Spanish.

"You don't think that has anything to do with you?" England whirled to face him. He spilled coffee on his hand. "Bloody fuck."

Spain edged closer. England took a step away.

"Spain, I really have better things to be doing."

"Than me?" Spain grinned. "You're blushing."

England took a sip of his tea—coffee, he remembered, grimacing. Spain tilted his head and stepped closer. England remained where he was, watching Spain move. So smooth.

"The meeting." England's voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. "We have to get back."

Spain took the coffee cup from England's hand and placed it on the table behind him. England hadn't realized how far he had backed up, how close Spain had gotten. His lower back hit the table, and Spain was so, so close.

"I don't think we will be long."

England placed his hands on the table behind him. Spain reached forward and played with England's tie, then loosened it.

"You're cute."

England rolled his eyes, but felt his cheeks burn. "If you're going to be like  _that_  about it, then—"

Spain laughed. "Alright, alright. No compliments. This tie does not match your suit."

"That's not—" He faltered when Spain started to undo his belt.

Spain dropped to his knees, and all England could do was watch him in a dazed sort of way. His dick was half-hard, and Spain gave it a lick and a few lazy strokes of his hands. The table pressed hard into England's back.

When he was fully hard, Spain wrapped his mouth around his dick. England closed his eyes. God, everything was warm and wet and nice. He had forgotten how good Spain was at blowjobs.

There were only the sounds of sucking, tongue on skin.

"How have you been?" England asked.

Spain laughed around England's dick. He pulled back. "This is when you choose to ask?"

"It's polite!" England shot back.

But Spain was already back to work. England was too stressed for this. He had to forcibly relax his shoulders, take a few calming breaths, focus on Spain's tongue, how it—

America walked into the room. He froze, stared at the two of them. England stared back. Spain hadn't heard him walk in, so he kept sucking.

Vaguely, England wondered if America still would have been sleeping.

"What the  _fuck_!"

Spain looked around. "America."

America pointed. " _What the fuck_!"

England held up his hands. "It's not what it looks like."


End file.
